


White Noise

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Baker Harry, Flirting, M/M, Mind Reading, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:24:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the existence of superheros became a universal truth, millions of people had to change their world view. Having grown up with the ability to read minds, Harry Styles was not one of those people. For twenty-one years he stayed hidden and lived a normal life, doing his best to ignore the thoughts of everyone around him until he met someone whose mind he couldn't read. </p><p>Or.</p><p>The one where Harry is a telepath and Louis is a secret agent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> This story is basically a superhuman!AU set in the same universe as the MCU. If you haven't seen any of the films you will still be able to understand everything!

The file on the table was thick, a result of nearly fifteen years of surveillance. The young man depicted in them had been watched from a distance, teachers had been paid off to learn information and old friends were brought into interviews.

The thoroughness of the whole operation was astounding, especially considering that most of the world didn’t even know that supernatural powers even existed until two years prior.

Aliens flying down through a portal was the worst possible way such information could have been released to the public. At least they were in New York and not London.

Louis put down the file and looked up at his superior, “Why approach him now? The files say that he is fine on his alone.”

“The mess in New York was one thing, but the destruction in Sokovia is another. They’re getting closer to our soil and we need to be prepared. Instead of letting a group of vigilantes from America run around we want to have our own team ready to take care of it. A task force.”

“My agents aren’t task force ready yet.”

“You are a handler, figure it out. For now, make contact with the Potential. I want you to get a good read on him, see if he can join the task force.”

“Time table?”

“As you see fit. Just don’t spook him.”

Louis picked the file up again, scanning the most recent picture. Besides his experience with other mutants, Louis could see why he had gotten the assignment, the Potential was right near his age, “And his powers?”

His superior pushed forward a closed box, “Our lab cooked these up years ago to deal with his surveillance. Don’t go within twenty feet of him without one.”

Nodding, Louis stood and gave his officer a salute, picking up the box and leaving the office.

Harry Styles, he would be an interesting assignment.  
 


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets a new regular at the bakery.

Until two years ago the weirdest thing the world had seen was a billionaire in a flying suit of metal. Then aliens came, some helpful and some homicidal, another flying suit of metal tried to use a country as meteor and more people with powers began popping up throughout the world like a mad game of whack-a-mole. 

For Harry, none of it was particularly surprising. Considering the fact that he had been able to read minds since before he could speak, the Iron Man wasn’t that impressive.

Since the Avengers had first 'assembled', there seemed to be two different types of people. There were those fervently wishing the world would go back to ‘normal’ and the ‘weird’ people would vanish. There were also those desperately hoping to somehow acquire powers. In Harry's opinion, the first group was delusional, the second group was naive.

He didn’t think there was anything nice about having other people’s thoughts swimming around in his brain all the time. As a child constant migraines kept him in bed and as an adolescent he turned to music to drown everything out.

Now, at twenty-one, he could manage. Thoughts filtered in and out of his head like they were fluttering by on a breeze. Occasionally something interesting would catch his attention and stray thoughts had helped him out of a few terrible situations.

Harry never dug into people’s minds when he could help it. It felt dirty, intrusive, and he saw no need for it.

In all honesty, mind reading was nothing but a bother. If Harry would have been able to trade it for anything he would have gladly gone for telekinesis. Matilda made it seem worth the trouble.

Living in a big city would be a nightmare, so Harry had no intentions of ever leaving Holmes Chapel. Here all he had to do was wear a good pair of headphones and turn his music up loud and his job at the bakery was almost therapeutic.

“Excuse me…”

Harry jumped, whirling around from the back counter to face the front of the shop. Standing just across from him was a young man, perhaps three years his senior. His lips were split into an apologetic smile but blue eyes twinkled with mischief. Brown fringe brushed his forehead from underneath a gray beanie.

“Sorry, I was caught in my thoughts,” Harry said, frowning as he lied. No one had ever surprised him like that, it was impossible when their thoughts filtered towards him, preceding their arrival by several feet. But this lad, Harry had nothing on him. It was silent, as if he wasn’t even there, “What can I get you?”

The lad studied the display case before meeting his gaze again, grinning, “What do you recommend?”

His smile was dazzling and Harry felt his cheeks growing hot as he replied, “I just pulled some cinnamon buns out of the oven. If you want to wait for me to ice one it’ll still be warm.”

“That sounds fantastic! I’ll take two.”

Harry nodded and turned, quickly icing a pair of buns and boxing them for the costumer. When he turned around, blue eyes were still watching him with a hint of bemusement and Harry couldn’t quite figure out why. It was disorienting not being able to discern what was going on in his head.

Curious, he reached out as he bagged the buns, consciously trying to read the lad’s mind.

There was still nothing but his own thoughts.

“Still with me, mate?”

The question pulled Harry back to the present and he blushed again, “Sorry, didn’t get much sleep last night.” He passed the bag over, “I like your accent.”

The lad’s smile shifted until it was a slight smirk, “Thanks, I like yours. Are these free or did you just forget to ring me up?”

Harry jumped into action, ringing up the buns and making change. The lad dropped a few coins into the tip jar and left.

 

 ...

 

A week later, Harry was pulling a tray of cinnamon buns from the oven when the bell rang up front. Pausing, he listened, trying to determine who was at the counter. He was met with silence, not even a whisper of a thought coming towards him.

Harry made his way to the front of the shop and froze when he recognized who was waiting for him. Wearing a turquoise beanie and an oversized hoodie was the same lad from the previous week.

He raised his nose slightly and dramatically sniffed the air, “Did I come on time for fresh cinnamon buns, Curly?”

“Just pulled them out.”

The lad grinned, “I’ll have two, please.”

Harry turned on his heels and went back towards the oven. At that moment it was just as well he couldn’t read the lad’s mind, his own was enough of a jumble to give him a headache. Harry iced the cinnamon buns and brought them to the front.

As he boxed them, he felt an intense gaze on him, “What’s your name, Curly?”

“Harry, and my hair’s not that curly.” He replied, in fact it was currently in a bun.

“That’s you in the picture isn’t it? With the singer?”

Harry glanced over to where the lad was pointing and looked at the picture on the wall. He had been working at the bakery for nearly six years and the particular snapshot was from when he first joined, at the age of sixteen.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

He accepted the notes, made change and was handing over the buns when he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Louis.”

Louis. It was a nice name and the way the lad said it made it sound even nicer.

“Nice to meet you, Louis.”

He received a grin in response, “Don’t forget my name, Curly, I’ll be back for more buns before you know it.”

Louis was gone before Harry could think of a response.

 

 ...

 

Living up to his promise, Louis was back three days later. This time he branched out and tried a cookie with his fresh bun. He asked Harry how long he had worked at the shop, Harry had been too busy trying to figure out how Louis’ eyelashes were even real to respond the first two times the question was asked.

 

...

 

Two weeks later, Harry was almost addicted to the odd silence that was at the end of every conversation he had with Louis. Speaking with the other lad was such a strange disconnect from being anywhere else. Beyond the small crush he was definitely _not_ developing on Louis (that was his story and he was sticking to it), it was just nice to only have his own thoughts to deal with.

Harry was already icing two cinnamon buns when the bell rang on the counter. He turned around and gave Louis a smile, “Do you have nothing to do but eat pastries?”

“Careful, you don’t want to lose your most valued costumer.” Louis responded without hesitation, it only took three visits for Harry to learn that his wit was razor sharp.

Harry simply shook his head with amusement and boxed the buns. When he turned around, Louis’ head was tilted and he was considering Harry, “In all honesty I just moved to town and this is the only place I’ve gotten a chance to get to know.”

“You haven’t got anyone to show you around?” Harry asked.

“Not yet,” At this point Harry didn’t even need to mention the price, Louis pulled out the money without prompt.

“If you’re not busy this evening, I get off at five.”

Louis raised an eyebrow, passing over the cash, “Why, Curly, I’m flattered. You sure you won’t get lost in your thoughts and leave me all alone?”

“I won’t.”

The bag of buns was picked up and Louis dropped a few coins in the tip jar, as he always did, “See you at five, then.”


	3. Mr. Legal

Louis was a loud mouth and never missed an opportunity to be a smart arse and Harry kind of thought he was brilliant. As they strolled through the center of the village, Harry felt slightly breathless at just how fast-paced everything about Louis actually was. The other lad practically screamed ‘big city’.

“What brought you to Holmes Chapel?” Harry asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“You a parrot, mate?” He flashed Harry a gleaming grin that made it impossible for Harry to be irritated by Louis’ comment, “I just wanted something new, something different.”

“So you moved to a village that is practically standing still.” The absurdity of the whole idea was baffling, and Harry couldn’t even tell if Louis was lying, joking, or just that spontaneous.

Louis’ face was lacking anything other than casual sincerity, “I’m not big on planning, or hesitation. What about you? Ever thought about leaving?”

Harry shrugged, turning to consider the street before them, “I like it here, it’s quiet.”

That was an understatement. Even at dinner time, the main street certainly wouldn’t qualify as ‘crowded’. The stray thoughts Harry could pick up were mundane, routine, he had heard them hundreds of times and could filter them out with ease. They were almost soothing, they were nothing more than white noise.

Just the thought of moving anywhere else, anywhere bigger and noisier, made Harry anxious. No, a change of pace wasn’t appealing to him in the slightest.

Blue eyes were regarding him with curiosity and Harry raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Just figured it’s odd to see a kid with the living preferences of a retired grandpa.”

Harry felt heart rise on his cheeks and he scowled, “I’m not a kid.”

Louis smirked. Fantastic. Out of all of the statement, Harry had protested his age. He might as well just shouted out that he may have developed a tiny crush on the lad.

“Well how old are you, Curly?”

“Legal.”

That pulled a snort from Louis, “Good to know.”

His smirk was wider, taunting, maddening and Harry fervently wished that the Earth would swallow him whole. Or maybe he could have been born with a freak’s mutation that would actually be helpful with this guy whose mind he couldn’t even read.

Like invisibility. Or memory wiping. Or shape-shifting. He could just turn into an ant and vanish, maybe get stepped on my some unsuspecting senior citizen and his misery would go away.

“Do you like football?” Louis asked, interrupting Harry’s pity party.

“’S alright. Why?”

“My team has a match on tomorrow and football’s a lot more fun to watch when you have someone to complain to.”

Harry blinked, “Are you asking me to come watch the match with you?”

Louis’ hand darted out and rapped against Harry’s head. Harry yelped, ducking away to the sound of Louis’ laugh. His glare would have been more convincing if Harry could suppress his amusement, “What was that for?”

“Had to make sure your brain didn’t leak out,” Louis explained, “yes, I’m inviting you over. Well?”

“Yeah, I’ll come by.” They came to a stop net to the road that Harry took to his house.

“Great.” _That_ smile flashed again. An expression that somehow captured the essence of mischief, “Give me your number.”

Harry accepted the phone that was thrust at him and he typed in his number. He didn’t get a chance to press the ‘save’ button before Louis was tugging it back, doubtless to save Harry’s number under something cheeky.

“Match starts at two, Curly. Bring something sweet.” He was gone without giving Harry a chance to reply.

Harry stayed on the street corner after Louis left for several long minutes, looking at nothing in particular as he tried to figure out how he had gotten to this point. This lad was going to send him to an early grave.

…

Harry stared at the house in front of him. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened the message that he received the previous night.

_Hey Mr. barely legal, here’s my address._

No. The address was right, and Harry couldn’t picture Louis sending him to the wrong place. Of course, Harry didn’t know that with his usual certainty and taking chances was not his strongest suit.

There was nothing for it. Harry hadn’t endured the teasing from his mother over his baking spree this morning to turn back now. Harry walked past the driveway and up to the door. It swung open before he got the chance to knock.

“Wondered if you were just going to stand there all day,” Louis said by way of greeting.

Harry wondered if Louis’ mouth could get stuck in its current position. One side tilted up in a smirk that seemed to be on reserve for their interactions, “No offense, but this is a whole lot nicer than I expected.” He gave Louis a searching look, “You’re not like a drug dealer or something?”

“Worse, I’m a trust-fund baby,” Louis replied, “Welcome to the house paid for by virtue of having a rich prick for a father.”

He stepped aside with an exaggerated flourish towards the interior of the house. Harry moved past him, the inside of the house was elegant, if a bit barren. Beside the necessary furniture, there wasn’t much to indicate someone actually lived there.

“Still unpacking?” Harry asked.

“Nope.” Louis led him further inside. A large TV was mounted on the wall, and in front of a sofa were crisps and other snacks, “What did you bring me?”

Harry passed over the small bag wordlessly. Louis glanced inside and grinned, “Are these fresh?”

“Yes.”

“Awww, Curly, I’m flattered,” He dug the plate of cinnamon buns out, “I’ll even wait until after pizza to dig in.” Louis took off towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Do you drink beer, Mr. Legal?”

By now, Harry was confident that however long he knew Louis, he would not be living that particular comment down, “Yeah, I do.”

Harry settled on the couch, watching the players warm up on the screen. A cold beer was dangled in front of his face and Harry accepted it as Louis leapt over the back of the couch.

“Do you always wear beanies?”

“Only when I don’t feel like styling my hear,” Louis mused, “So most of the time, yeah. You don’t like my beanies?”

“Not the pinnacle of fashion, but I suppose they’re alright.”

“So you do have a bite!” Louis grinned, “Was starting to wonder if you’d just let me walk all over you.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry took a swig of his beer, he would need a bit of a buzz to put up with Louis for a full football match.

…

A pizza and a half, two beers each and nearly the whole tray of cinnamon buns later (as well as no less than a dozen 'bogus' calls, according to Louis), Harry was finally feeling at ease. Since alcohol made his already tenuous control of his powers worse, Harry seldom drank. Yet, for whatever reason, he couldn’t read Louis’ thoughts. The evident lack of his powers made Harry feel like a normal lad for, perhaps, the first time.

“What do you think about superheroes?” The question came out of Harry’s mouth before he could catch it.

Attention rapt on the match, Louis only looked back at him for a second, “What, like comics? Superman?”

“No, the real ones. Like the Avengers.”

Louis shrugged, “Like them a lot better than those aliens in New York, or that android army a few months back.”

“Do you ever think that there might be normal people, with like, powers?”

“Not really,” Louis’ clapped as his team scored a goal, “Why?”

“No reason.” Harry muttered, standing up, “I’m getting another beer. Want one?”

“Always.”


	4. Boys like Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Harry figured that just coming out and saying ‘hey by the way I can read minds but I can’t read yours’ wouldn’t go over well.
> 
> Hell, just coming out to Louis had been a bit of a headache.

It was weird, having a real friend.  Not that Harry had lived in total isolation for twenty-one years, mind you. It was just difficult being friends with people when you could hear their every thought. How did could you hang out with someone when you knew that they thought your hair looked weird, or that you were a bit of a prick? There were people he had hung out with during school, but when they all moved away from Holmes Chapel, Harry hadn’t scrambled to stay in touch.

Louis was different.

Sure, he was also a bit of a pain in the arse, but any negative thoughts Louis had towards Harry, Harry couldn’t hear. It was liberating, in a way.

Mind-reading was an invasion of privacy, Harry made that discovery when he accidentally outed a classmate. It was hard to have any sort of friendship when Harry always felt guilty over knowing what was supposed to be private.

It was a change with Louis. Almost everything about him was a mystery. Who his ‘rich prick’ of a father was, why he didn’t seem to have any other friends, if he even kept in touch with his family.

Harry knew that Louis liked football, and his cinnamon buns. The lad had an overall sweet tooth and only drank the expensive beers. Evidently his favorite fashion accessory was one of the seemingly endless beanies he owned.

That was about it.

Harry figured that Louis was more intelligent than he let on, moved around a lot and did some sort of regular exercise. He was friendly, managing to charm Harry’s mum in a matter of minutes. Louis was competitive, almost obnoxiously so. Harry couldn’t mention his favorite pub without the lad going on a rant about how they had been ‘cheated’ on trivia night.

They were around each other constantly. Louis always made it a point to drop into the bakery for his ‘daily dose’ of cinnamon buns. On the days when Harry wasn’t working, he was showing Louis around the closest towns, playing FIFA or trying to convince  Louis to stop dropping by his house because his mother’s teasing was getting unbearable.

Sometimes, Louis would get a phone call that he vanished to take. They came at all hours of the day, the numbers blocked, and Louis never explained them. Once Harry overheard Louis muttering in Arabic, of all languages, the other lad never mentioned being bilingual. But Harry didn’t ask, and it was sort of nice not knowing.

Once every so often Harry would broach the subject of superheroes, of normal people with powers. At first, Louis didn’t seem interested in finding out one way or another if the people around him weren’t normal. When he realized that Harry was really invested in the topic he would listen to Harry ramble, but rarely offered up an opinion either way.

Harry had never wanted to tell someone about his powers, but he wanted to tell Louis. If only he could get a better idea how Louis would react. It wasn’t the easiest topic to bring up in conversation. For some reason, Harry figured that just coming out and saying ‘hey by the way I can read minds but I can’t read yours’ wouldn’t go over well.

Hell, just coming out to Louis had been a bit of a headache.

That topic came up nearly three weeks after they watched the football match together. Louis was complaining about the lack of a dating scene in Holmes Chapel.

“I mean, blimey, everyone’s either not done with sixth form or they’re retired.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair in the empty bakery.

“Maybe if you did your research before completely uprooting your life you might’ve known that.” Harry commented.

“Ouch, that hurts, Curly.” The grin on Louis’ face indicated nothing of the sort, “I mean it must be easy for you to get a date. You’ve got the tall, dark and handsome thing going on, at least until you trip over your own feet.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned away from the front of the shop, focusing on prepping the counter for service in the morning. Ignoring the way his heartbeat seemed to double in speed, he murmured, “Not a lot of people like me around here.”

“Like you? Course not, you’re one of a kind. A genuine Benjamin Button at heart. You sure that you’re not really an eighty-year old grandpa masquerading as a kid?”

“Not a kid.”

“Right, how could I forget? You’re _legal_.”

Louis was making it damn hard for Harry to say anything genuine when he was so focused on being a prick.

“I meant that it’s hard to find a guy in this town that isn’t straight.”

There was a moment of silence, which was a lot more silence than Harry had ever experienced in his interactions with Louis. He felt his shoulders tense, if he could just read Louis’ mind maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous. Harry wasn’t quite sure he would be able to handle it if Louis stormed out of the shop in disgust.

“You are incredibly thick.”

Whatever Harry was expecting from Louis, those four words were definitely not it. He whirled around with a scowl, “Where do you get off saying that?”

“What about the bartender at your favorite pub? The one that disqualified my answers because they didn’t follow the rules?”

Harry snorted, “You’ve got to let go of that trivia night grudge, mate.”

“No, I don’t.” Louis replied, “But that’s not the point. The point is that the guy was giving you bedroom eyes the whole time and it was almost enough to make me uncomfortable. He probably sabotaged our team because he thought we were on a date or something.”

“Nick is not gay.” Harry was pretty positive that if Nick had any intention of trying to go out with Harry, he would have noticed by now. It was kind of a virtue of being a telepath. Then again, it was harder to concentrate on individual thoughts in crowded places like bars, but Harry was 73% positive Louis was taking the piss.

“Sure.” The word was drawn out, disbelief heavy in Louis’ voice, “And when we went to Manchester to pick up stuff for my flat and that group of guys invited us back to their place for some drinks?”

Harry shrugged, thinking back to the incident. Yeah, the guys had been overeager, but when he was around Louis it was like Harry’s tendency to pick up other people’s stray thoughts just vanished. He actually had no idea what they had been thinking.

Even so, he wasn’t letting Louis have this one, “Just being friendly, they weren’t having a pass at me.”

Louis blinked at Harry, opened his mouth to reply, closed it when no words came out, and dropped his head in his hands, “I thought you were just not interested, I didn’t realize that you were completely oblivious.”

“Well how would you know if they were gay anyways?”

“I know when someone’s flirting, Curly, maybe if you got out of your village a bit more often you might recognize it better.” Louis' hands were still covering his face and he murmured the next bit, more to himself than to Harry, “Completely thick, my god.”

Turning back to prepping for the next day’s baking, Harry shook his head, “I’ll buy it when  you find me a guy that you actually know is gay, not one that you’re just making assumptions about, that I don’t notice.”

“Already did.”

“Nick doesn’t count, you’re making assumptions.”

“Not Nick, you idiot, me.”


	5. More Questions Than Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry works up the courage to do something about his crush.

“Not Nick, you idiot, me.”

Harry felt like time screeched to a halt, his hands frozen where they were in a bowl of dough, his ears ringing. He must be hearing things. His crush on Louis was probably so out of control that he was projecting his sexuality onto the lad.

And yet…

“Excuse me?” Harry meant for the question to come out cool, nonchalant, vaguely curious at most. Instead, his voice was high pitched and squeaky.

“I said, I’m gay,” Louis’ voice was unusually solemn, taking out the probability that his words were a prank.

Harry blinked, “Oh.”

“You had no clue, did you?” Louis prodded as he stood from his seat and moved closer to the service counter.

“I just assumed you were straight.” Harry wiped his hands and turned to face Louis, “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes.”

Louis grinned at Harry’s immediate answer. His hands were raised in a placating gesture, “I’m being honest, Harry. What can I do to make you believe me?”

“Go on a date with me.” The words were out of Harry’s mouth before he even knew they were on his mind. His cheeks flushed a bright pink.

Louis looked just as surprised as Harry felt, “What?”

Well, there was no way to take the words back now. Harry took a deep breath, “I’m asking you out on a date, Louis.”

The silence stretched between them, quickly chipping away at Harry’s newfound confidence. Blue eyes just stared at him, flashing with emotions too fast for Harry to follow. Harry was opening his mouth to apologize for his presumptions and explain his way out of Louis’ life when Louis shrugged.

“Alright.”

“Really?”

Louis grinned, the uneasy tension melting away, “But be warned, Curly, I expect proper wooing. Bingo night at your old folks’ home won’t cut it.”

Harry snorted, as if he was ever taking Louis anywhere near a competition ever again, “Got it. Tomorrow? At seven?”

“Tomorrow. See you later, Curly.”

Louis left the shop, and a still slightly stunned Harry, behind. It took Harry a few moments to wrap his mind around what just happened. He was going on a date with Louis.

He was going on a date with Louis _tomorrow_ and he had no clue where to take him.

Quickly, Harry finished up closing the shop. There was no doubt in his mind that if Louis disapproved of their date activity he would be very vocal about it. Harry needed a game plan.

…

When Harry knocked on the door to Louis’ flat he expected to be met with a casual, if slightly impish grin. Instead, the door swung open and Louis welcomed him with a slightly distracted smile, phone pressed to his ear.

“Sorry,” He muttered, “It’ll be just a minute.”

Nodding in understanding, Harry stepped into the flat. Louis shuffled past him and spoke into his phone, in Spanish. Okay, so now he spoke three languages?

Harry once commented that Louis seemed to talk like he was running out of time to speak, his words flowing out of his mouth at breakneck speed. That was nothing compared to how quickly he rattled off the Spanish words, a hint of exasperation in his voice. Even though Harry had no idea what was being said, he knew Louis was in charge.

“Just do it,” Louis sighed, this time in English, “I really don’t have time for this. I thought it was just going to be a quick thing….okay…fine…we can talk later, bye.”

He hung up and turned to Harry, giving him a more genuine smile, “I’m really sorry about that. They called nearly an hour ago wasn’t expecting it to take so long.”

“Work troubles?” Harry asked, taking a shot in the dark, he was fairly sure Louis didn’t have a job but that was the only thing that made sense.

“Sort of. I do some business for my father, that’s how my bank account stays plush,” Louis shrugged, “But it’s not important. You’ve got to impress me on our date. Where are we going?”

Tucking the interaction away to analyze later, Harry smiled softly, “It’s a surprise, come on.”

“A surprise?” Louis asked as they left his flat, “What kind of surprise? Can I get a hint?”

“If I gave you a hint you’d figure it out.”

“You flatter me Curly.”

Harry glanced at Louis, the other lad looked nice. He wore a simple black t-shirt and a leather jacket to ward against the cool of the summer evening. A pair of black jeans clung to his leg and his hair peaked out from underneath one of his signature beanies.

“If you’re going to stare you might as well say something,” Louis yanked Harry from ogling.

Caught in the act of, very obviously, checking Louis out. Harry went for the first conversation topic that he could grasp, “You speak three languages?”

Louis raised an eyebrow, “Bit out of left-field, Curly.”

“I heard you speaking Arabic on the phone the other day, and today you sounded fluent in Spanish.”

“Virtue of years of private boarding schools.” Louis admitted.

“What does your dad do?”

“A bit of everything, to be honest. He-.” Louis cut off his sentence, coming to an abrupt halt. His face shifted into a scowl as he stared straight ahead.

Following his line of sight, Harry noticed two lads waiting at the street corner. They were staring right back at Louis.

One of them, a blonde, waved, “Oi! Louis!”

“I’m going to kill them,” Louis muttered, darkly.

“Who are they?” Harry asked as the two lads ran over, both looked to be around Louis’ age.

The blonde reached them before Louis could answer, grinning from ear to ear, “You stick out like a sore thumb in this town, mate. You’re not still mad about the phone call, are you?”

“You speak Spanish?” Harry asked, completely bewildered. The thick Irish accent was not what he expected to hear from someone fluent in Spanish.

The blond flicked bright blue eyes to him and shrugged, “Yeah. Learnt it at school.”

Something in his voice made Harry wary, the glee had vanished from the lad’s voice, replaced with caution. Carefully, Harry reached out to the lad’s mind. It was completely quiet, almost intentionally so.

“Harry, this is Niall,” The blond gave a dramatic bow, “And the sensible one is Liam. Lads, this is Harry, we’re on a _date._ ”

Liam had brown hair and friendly brown eyes. He raised an eyebrow, “A date?” His mind, just like Niall’s was unnaturally silent.

The pair of them set Harry on edge.

“Yeah, a date. So if you don’t mind…” Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and began tugging him away.

“We came all this way to see you,” Niall frowned, “You’re just going to ditch us?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis tossed Liam his house keys, rattling off his address, “Break anything and I’ll kick you out. I’ll be back later, don’t wait up.”

Harry was pulled away forcefully, confusion still plastered on his face, “What just happened?”

“Hell if I know.” Louis sighed, slowing down when it was clear they weren’t being followed, he squeezed Harry’s hand, “Let’s leave it alone for now, yeah?”

“Sure.” In all honesty, Harry would have probably agreed to anything Louis asked if it meant they could keep holding hands like this.

Louis smiled gratefully, “So, where are we going again?”

Laughing, Harry shook his head. He hadn’t been _that_ distracted.


	6. First Date

As it turned out, Harry evidently decided to play it safe for their date and went for an old classic, dinner. Louis would have complained about the predictability of the whole affair if Harry had not taken him to a small cottage at the edge of the village. The atmosphere inside was warm, cozy, and the smell of fresh cooking drifted towards Louis the moment the door opened.

“A family friend uses this place as a vacation home, said I could borrow it for the evening,” Harry explained as he led Louis to a table set for two, clearly waiting for Louis’ opinion.

Louis glanced at the lad. He had taken in everything the moment they walked inside the cottage. His eyes scanning the freshly dusted furniture and the fresh flowers at the window sill.

After a moment, he grinned, “Not bad, Curly.”

The compliment seemed to bolster Harry’s confidence and he gave Louis a shy smile, “I figured I’d have to do something a little unique for someone as picky as you.”

“I’m not picky, I just have standards.”

“Ridiculously high ones.” Harry motioned Louis to one of the chairs, “Sit down, I’ll go get dinner out of the oven.”

“So not only do you bake, now you cook too?” Louis asked, taking the seat.

“I have a lot of free time,” Harry stepped around the counter to busy himself in the kitchen.

“Ah, yes, I forgot that you’re practically a retired homebody,” Louis teased, watching as Harry pulled dishes out of the oven, “Do you knit too?”

“Crochet.” Plates were set on the table and Harry shot Louis a mischievous grin.

Scowling, Louis pointed an accusing finger at Harry, “Hang on, only one of us gets to be the prankster.”

Harry laughed, his expression so joyful that Louis couldn’t pretend to be irritated any longer, “I almost had you, didn’t I?”

“The fact that I believed you for a second says more about you than about me.”

As Harry took his seat, Louis eyed the spread on the table before helping himself to a plate, pretending not to notice the anxious glint in Harry’s eyes.

Louis took a bite of the food, chewed, calmly set his fork down and crossed his arms. The blood seemed to drain from Harry’s face, “Everything alright?”

“If you can cook like this why have we been ordering pizza once a week?” Louis asked.

Green eyes blinked once. Then twice. The color slowly flooded back to Harry’s cheeks, “You never asked.

“If I keep dating you will you start cooking for me?”

Harry grinned, “Not if you’re only dating me for my cooking.”

Louis began eating again, “There’s other reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Your baking!”

A dinner roll was chucked at Louis’ head.

…

The meal was long gone and Louis was contemplating whether or not he would regret going for the last bite of his lava cake when Harry brought up the questions Louis had worked very hard to try and avoid.

“Niall and Liam seem nice.”

Louis decided he deserved the last bite of cake given the mess that Niall and Liam and had put him in. Mouth full of chocolate, he simply nodded.

“And they both work for your dad?”

“Mostly,” Louis stood, “Need help with the dishes?” He didn’t wait for an answer before moving to the kitchen.

Harry was right behind with the rest of the dishes, and more questions, “Will they be in town long?”

“Doubt it.” Louis focused his attention on drying the plates that Harry passed to him.

“Shame.”

Louis glanced over, “Shame?”

“I don’t know anything about your life before you moved here and they seem fun. Just wanted to get to know them, and you, better.”

Wiping his hands on a towel, Louis mentally sighed, sooner or later Harry’s curiosity would have put him in a similar position. He turned, studying the lad. Right now, Harry’s eyes were wide and earnest, the sincerity in them tugging at Louis’ conscious, and despite his better judgement he decided to throw him a bone.

“Maybe we can all grab lunch tomorrow. I don’t know their schedule or when they have to leave, but I’ll ask.”

The responding smile was worth it, “I’d love that.”

Louis grinned and pushed himself onto the tips of his toes. His lips pressed against Harry’s in a gentle kiss, one hand sliding to the nape of Harry’s neck to anchor them together. After a split second of hesitation, Harry cautiously kissed him back, lips moving slowly, almost leisurely.

Louis pulled back, the slightly dazed look in Harry’s eyes making him smirk.

“What was that for?” Harry murmured.

“Thank for dinner, Curly.” Louis winked, and left the cottage. He could find his way back to his flat alone. Besides, he needed a few moments of peace before dealing with Niall and Liam.


	7. The Task Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis meets with his team.

Thankfully, Louis walked into his flat with it entirely intact. He paused to put his coat on the rack and was assaulted with a blast of air that gave way to a self-satisfied speedster.

“One day you’re going to be noticed and I’m not going to bail you out, Niall,” Louis said, not bothering to scold him.

Niall grinned, “You’d let me get carted off to some government experiment facility? Aren’t you supposed to be my handler?”

Louis rolled his eyes and walked further into the flat, letting out a soft huff as Niall sped past him to lean against the counter next to Liam. Liam was a bit subtler with his smugness but Louis was just waiting for him to say something.

It took all of two minutes for Liam to run out of patience, “How was your date, Tommo?”

“Would’ve been better if he wasn’t asking about you two. I do have a cover, and a pair of obnoxious super-powered freaks don't fit into it.”

“Ah, come on, it’s not like we showed up with me carrying a truck or something.” Liam pointed out, "We tried to do you that favor at least."

“Thank you sincerely for that,” Louis’ voice dripped with sarcasm.

Niall ran behind Louis to the fridge and came to a halt next to him with a beer, “You need to relax, mate. For a mind reader he’s a bit oblivious, isn’t he?”

Grateful for the alcohol, even at the cost of Niall showing off, Louis opened the drink and took a swig, “It’s actually a bit entertaining how oblivious he can be.”

“He’s not as good as they thought he was?” Liam pressed.

“I think he’s better.”

The two mutants exchanged curious looks, it was Liam who said, “Explain.”

Louis shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he filtered through his thoughts.  After a moment he said, “From what I’ve read on his files, every time Harry has accidently shown his powers he’s done so in an intrusive manner but for some reason he doesn’t pick up surface level thoughts. My guess is that he doesn’t consciously use his powers often, if at all, which means that if he were to start consciously using them he’d be able to learn a lot more. Your little ‘blank slate’ trick wouldn’t work.”

“Fascinating, you should teach him how to use his powers properly,” Niall said, “Maybe wait until you're not in the field though, get a new cover. How is being a proper field agent, by the way?”

Louis flicked his gaze between the pair of them, as much as they got along, they were more co-workers than friends. And in that aspect, Louis was in charge, “Why are you here? I thought I made it clear on the phone what your next course of action was.”

“You did.” Liam replied, “But we have a message from headquarters for verbal delivery. Two actually.”

“The first?”

“They want you to prep him for joining the task force.”

Louis frowned, “I was just supposed to be evaluating, why are they changing the goal?”

“Well, that's the second message. We’ve got a potential Spike that might come to a head within the next few months.”

Of all the things Louis anticipated from this visit, _that_ statement was definitely not any of them. Over the years he had been working for the agency they had never experienced anything close to a Spike, and it had the potential to be a disaster for his task force, and the nation at large.

“What’s my timeline?”

“Thirty days.” That was Niall, “We couldn’t get you an extension, we tried. They’ll pull you out regardless of if you succeed or not.”

Louis drained the rest of his beer, he didn’t waste the breath telling his team that the deadline was impossible. There was almost no chance that he would be able to tell Harry who he really was, what he did for a living, and then convince him to join a task force spearheaded by a government organization that technically didn’t exist. Even if he somehow managed to avoid the predictable accusation of betrayal, Louis was a special agent, not a miracle worker.

“Anything else?” He settled on asking.

Niall snorted, “Anything else? Like that’s not enough news for you? No that’s it, Louis. Are you going to kick us out now?”

“You can stay for the night,” Louis said, pointing a stern finger at Niall, “Not a day longer because I need to get to work on Harry.”

“Careful, Tommo, someone might get the wrong impression when you say it like that.” Liam smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Louis crossed the main room towards his bedroom, “Don’t make a mess in my flat! It's a rental and my cover doesn't come with enough money to pay for damages!”


End file.
